To Heather, With Love
by SilverGato
Summary: Some things things are better left unknown. Heather meets Stanley Coleman at last...


Heather sat quietly in the descending elevator. Her shotgun was resting in her lap. A few minutes ago it had been used to take down one of those horrific monsters that crawled around on the ground.

It didn't make any sense. It never did. When she first arrived at the Brookhaven hospital in Silent Hill, her only goal was to find the clue she needed to find and kill Claudia. In this case that clue had been Leonard Wolf. The hospital had been dark, creepy, and abandoned. Of course, no one had occupied that hospital for years.

Well, except for the monsters…

But now it had taken on a whole new form. Something much more evil and sinister than it had been before. The walls were thick with red slime, and it seemed to pulsate as she walked past. It was much more darker, scarier, and disgusting place.

And now three new buttons had appeared on the same elevator she had been on before. The only one that worked led to the third-floor basement. And she had no idea what nasty surprises were waiting for her there.

She thought about the strange phone call she received in the men's locker room on the second floor of the hospital. The eerie words had been echoing in her head ever since she listened to it.

"Happy Birthday to you…"

"Happy Birthday to you…"

It's not my birthday. It's not. Who the hell is this guy?

The elevator stopped. The rusty iron bars that Heather had grown to hate unbarred themselves from the doors. She picked up her shotgun and stepped off.

She was greeted by the strong scent of tainted meat. The smell, she realized, was coming from several perfectly aligned gurneys with corpses lying on them. Blood-stained sheets covered the bodies.

"Ugh…sick…" she muttered to herself. There was an opened oven attached to a wall opposite from where she was standing. She realized that this wasn't just some kind of hospital morgue, but it was also a crematorium.

Great, just what I needed…

Something glimmered from inside the oven. Heather curiously walked over, trying to ignore the smells as best she could. As she got close, she made out the shape of a key. She quickly swiped it, eager to get out of this nightmarish place.

She walked past the rows of bodies, but something caught her attention. Each gurney had a number on them.

"He's underground now…his new name is #7..."

There it was. Gurney #7. It was way in the back of the room.

Heather found herself walking toward it. Her mind screamed at her to turn away and get out before something happened, but she wanted to see…

Could this really be Stanley Coleman?

She stood at the end of the gurney, staring down at it and wondering what she should do. Part of her wanted to run back to the elevator, the other part wanted to see this disturbing man who had called to love Heather more than anything else.

"Stanley?" she whispered shakily. She was half-expecting a reply.

Her hands reached down toward the white and red sheet. Right before she could touch it, she heard the sound of something wet squishing, she heard a gag that sounded like it was coming from Stanley's corpse.

_"H……er…"_

She jumped back in fear. The temptation to run was now stronger than ever, but she somehow calmed down long enough to try again. Her fingers curled around the bed sheets and she tugged them off as gently as possible. The sheets were pulled off farther then she had intended. She had only meant to see his face, but now she could see his entire torso.

Oh…god…

Stanley Coleman lay there with his hands resting on top of his chest. He was very frail-looking, and his skin was very pale. He had strange markings and cuts all over him. One looked like that weird red marking she had been running into often. The one that made her head hurt. That mark had been sloppily carved into him.

There were also stitches all over him. The most noticeable ones were the large stitches on his chest. Dry blood had formed around where he had been sewn up.

What's that…?

Heather walked around the gurney to get a better look. There was something odd about the stitching job they did on his chest. Something odd about the way his arms where positioned. It difficult to see in such a dark room, but as she got closer, she flicked on her flashlight.

The moment her eyes fell on him, she wish she hadn't.

His arms had been sewn to his chest. It was a makeshift straightjacket. Had they done this to him right before he died? How long did he have to stay like this?

Then she saw his face.

The right side of his face was torn off, exposing wet decaying meat. Something was squirming under the layer of muscle. His right eye was missing as well. His left eye was turned back in head, and his mouth was sewn shut with thick wire. His naked, white, wrinkled skull was resting in his own dried blood. This was her "beloved" Stanley.

"He…ther…."

Radio static.

She screamed.

Her hands flew up to her mouth as she tried to fight back the overwhelming urge to throw up. She stumbled back, knocking into other occupied gurney. She felt the sheet brush up against her back, felt maybe a hand…

DID LEONARD DO THIS?!

Stanley's head was now tilted, his one eye now focused only on her. Did his head move?! When did his head move?!

She sprang to her feet, sprinting towards the elevator. The radio static was becoming more intense. In her panic she tripped again, frantically reaching for the elevator panel. She got up and began banging her fist against the button, trying to force the elevator doors to open. Her head snapped around, Stanley was still watching her. She saw he was holding something.

A doll. A simple, little doll. The same one she had seen next to the diaries he had left for her many times. Now that she thought about it, didn't it look like Alys…

"Open up! OPEN UP! PLEASE!" Heather screamed at the elevator. Her head was going to explode. The static and Stanley watching her was making her head want split open. She was pounding on the metal doors now. They finally opened with a mechanical whirl, and she didn't hesitate to leap inside. The iron bars slammed shut, sealing her in. For once, she was glad.

The last thing she saw was him. If he was able, he might have been smiling.

The doors closed.

The elevator went up.

Heather was alone.

Crackle…

She was looking at the floor now. The static faded. Everything was quiet again. Her heart was thumping quickly against her chest.

I have to get out of here, she thought, _to hell with Leonard, to hell with Claudia, to hell with Paradise and Silent Hill…_

She thought of her father. What would he have done?

I need to find Douglas, tell him this whole thing was a big mistake and that we should leave as fast as-

Her head throbbed. The pain rapidly worsened and she groaned in pain. It felt just like the time she had encountered Claudia.

Except…except…it's getting worse…

She clutched her head. The pain intensified and she bit her lip to keep herself from screaming. There was an image of her father quietly sitting at home. An image of Stanley screaming and struggling while he was being sewn into his straightjacket. An image of a little girl with long blonde hair hugging a sobbing little girl with dark hair.

Then it passed.

She sat up, her eyes blurry with tears and her head aching.

What just happened?

She felt something warm in her hand. She opened her clinched fist and saw that was a key.

How did I get this?

She studied the key for a moment, trying to remember how she acquired it. She gave up and put it away.

Oh well. Maybe it'll help me find that Leonard guy. The sooner I find him, the sooner I'll probably find Claudia.

The elevator went up.

"Heather…"


End file.
